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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28239756">The Inherent Romance of Patching Up Your Idiot Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortal_Enby_Archivist/pseuds/Immortal_Enby_Archivist'>Immortal_Enby_Archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Canon typical Juno low-key suicidal thoughts, Just Juno being reckless, Just Juno getting kicked violently and Nureyev taking care of his wounds, Other, POV First Person, POV Juno Steel, Sometimes the author needs a thief to lovingly tend to his wounds and that's valid, Stitching wounds, They're Not That Bad, light fluff, slight depictions of violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:28:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28239756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortal_Enby_Archivist/pseuds/Immortal_Enby_Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting badly beaten up isn't news to Juno Steel. What is, however, is a figure from his past resurfacing to tend to his wounds.<br/>CW: light violence, description of stitching wounds, low-key suicidal ideation (aka Juno's canon typical "If I die that's just God's will")</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Inherent Romance of Patching Up Your Idiot Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In my line of work, it's not uncommon to end up badly injured in a dark alley, a baseball bat swinging at your ribs. It's still a very unpleasant experience, but at least you know it's coming.<br/>
I ruffled the wrong feathers, again, and because of it, half a dozen goons were playing the age old game of "Kick the Detective."</p><p>My name is Juno Steel, I'm a private eye, and that makes me more prone to getting beaten within an inch of my life than the average Joe. This was no exception. I felt a metallic taste in my mouth, as my split lip throbbed, blood trickling down my chin and to the floor I was getting accustomed to know. I had a huge gash on my chin, and a slash across my cheek. My face was covered in blood, both fresh and drying up. One of their kicks landed on my stomach, and I squeezed my thumb to keep myself from puking. After what felt like eternity, the biggest goon spat at my feet and threatened me with the promise of coming back and finishing the job, if I kept being nosy around business that doesn't concern me.</p><p>They drove away, and I shut my eyes. Everything hurt. It felt as though I had just been repeatedly run over by a car with spikes on its wheels. Still, the neighborhood I was currently about to pass out in wasn't exactly the safest place for a detective - especially at night - so I gathered my strength and attempted to sit up. Too bad gravity wasn't being especially cooperative, and I ended up on the floor again, hitting my head.</p><p>I was still thinking about how to get out of that situation, when I tensed up: someone was crouching next to me, delicate fingers tracing my jawline.<br/>
"I have a blaster." I croaked out, far less intimidating than I intended to.<br/>
Strong arms lifted me up, carrying me bridal style down the dark alley. I froze in fear. Anything could happen to a lady in a place like this.<br/>
"I won't warn you again."</p><p>The stranger laughed and my heart sank. I knew that laughter.<br/>
"My dear detective, if you had wanted to shoot me, you would have done it by now."</p><p>"Nureyev..." I whispered, hands sweaty and heart racing. "What- why are you-"</p><p>"Well, I simply couldn't leave my pretty lady to his fate in such a rough neighborhood. You're lucky I was robbing a house nearby, or I wouldn't have heard your little yelps of pain."</p><p>Embarrassment crushed me like a tidal wave. I clung to his chest, saying nothing: too bad he could read the silence as accurately as he did my words.<br/>
"Fret not, dear, my opinion on you hasn't changed. In my eyes, you're still the brilliant detective I worked with long ago."</p><p>I wanted to reply that it really wasn't that long ago, but we reached my house, and Nureyev opened the door with the keys I didn't even notice he had taken from my pocket.<br/>
"Are you going to leave?"</p><p>"With you in this dreadful condition? What do I look like, a savage?" He lowered me gently onto the couch, and went to the bathroom. I missed his strong hands already, but I managed to distract myself by trying to not bleed on the couch. It didn't work so well.</p><p>Nureyev came back with a first aid kit, and knelt in front of me. "Stay still, love."</p><p>The casual way he peppered his speech with pet names was enough to make me squirm in my seat. But he explicitly told me to stay still, so I did my best to comply.<br/>
"Were you really around because of a robbery?"</p><p>I flinched as he dabbed a cloth imbued with disinfectant on my split lip.</p><p>"Perhaps." His signature fox smile appeared on his face, and I realised I had no idea how much I missed it. He pressed slightly harder and I whimpered lightly against my will. He tutted. "My, my, you're a sensitive little thing."</p><p>"You could try being more delicate, it wouldn't hurt you." His face was so close, and his hand was nonchalantly brushing against mine. There was no concept of personal space, just his tender gaze and soft care.</p><p>"You're an idiot, Juno." </p><p>"And you just got that now?" I sucked in air through gritted teeth, as Nureyev put down the cloth and ran his thumb under my lip.</p><p>"Poor thing." His other hand moved on my thighs and the world shrunk to him and his touch on my body. "You're going to get yourself killed one day."</p><p>"A risk I'm willing to take. You don't enter this line of business without making peace with the fact that you'll die sooner than you think." I paused, before shrugging. "I don't even mind at this point." </p><p>Concern spread across his handsome face, and he thumbed my thigh affectionately. "Oh, you reckless moron, when will you learn that you're not better off dead?"</p><p>Probably never. Or maybe watching Rita panic as I bleed out on the floor. The thought alone hurt, so I shoved it back in my head and looked down.<br/>
He tilted my head up, going back to dabbing his cloth, this time on the cut in my cheek.<br/>
"You're so stubborn, no wonder you haven't yet had your head bashed in. It's probably made of... well, steel." Chuckling to himself at the pun, he picked up a plaster and gently placed it over my wound, hands ghosting on it. "There. Do you want me to kiss your owie?"</p><p>Desperately. "I'm not a child, Nureyev."</p><p>"Thank God you told me, or I would never have noticed." Worry took over his expression again, as he rummaged in his endless pockets. "This is going to hurt, I need you to be as still as you can."</p><p>He pulled out a small box with a surgical needle and thread inside. I swallowed. "That's alright. I can handle pain."</p><p>What I couldn't handle was his hand leaving my thigh to press together the edges of the gash on my chin, methodically piercing my flesh with the needle. Pain clouded my mind, and my eyes immediately watered. I shut my eyes, whimpering lightly.</p><p>He shushed me. "You're doing so good, Juno. Don't talk, just focus on my voice. That's it, that's it. I missed you, you know? Wherever I go, I'm haunted by your pretty eyes and lovely face. It's not fair, how is a man supposed to focus on crime, with a gorgeous lady always in his mind?"</p><p>I knew he was saying random things just to distract me from the pain, but part of me wanted to believe it so badly. Believe that I had left just as much an impact on Nureyev's life as he had on mine.</p><p>The procedure stung quite a bit, and I'd often find myself squeezing my eyes, preventing a soft sob from escaping my lips. I rested my hands on his thighs for support, and I could have sworn he held his breath for a few seconds.</p><p>"Look at you. So brave and stoic." He made the last stitch and cut the thread, admiring his handiwork. "I tried my best, but I'm afraid this will leave a scar."</p><p>It took me a while to gather the willpower to move my hands from his thighs, and even longer to mumble out a weak but heartfelt "Thank you". I traced the stitches with my fingers, wincing at the jolt of pain. "It's not the first scar and it definitely won't be the last."</p><p>His light, bloodied fingers ghosted over my cheek, as he gazed in my eyes. "I know asking you to be careful is like asking the planet to stop revolving around the Sun, but I would appreciate it if you at least tried to stay out of trouble." He leaned forward, his familiar cologne making my head swim. "I won't always be there to patch you up, you know?"</p><p>Part of me wanted him to. I wanted him to never be too far away from me, to always be close enough to call whenever needed.</p><p>"I do."</p><p>His expression softened, and he tilted my chin towards him, mindful of the stitches. "Oh, Juno..." Before I knew it, his lips were on mine and everything else went away. </p><p>My lip was still throbbing, and I could taste my blood in our mouths, but it didn't matter. Nothing did, only his hands cupping my cheeks, his tongue exploring my mouth, and his cologne.</p><p>We parted long before I was ready to let him go; mainly because no one could ever get ready for such an event.</p><p>His gaze was soft, tenderness oozing from his every move, as he brushed a strand of damp hair out of my forehead. "Take care of yourself, Juno. You have no idea how many people want you to be safe."</p><p>I really didn't. He stood up, leaving me one last kiss on my forehead, before turning towards the door.</p><p>I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Will I ever see you again?"</p><p>He stopped and turned around, leaning against the doorframe. "Perhaps. I will be forever praying that that's the case, dear detective."</p><p>Those are the last words I heard from him, before the door shut, and I was left alone in my dingy apartment, all patched up and with a hole in my heart nothing could fill.</p>
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